


the irony of fate

by spinnerofyarns



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Gen, Jared being a Mom Friend, New Year's Eve, Parties, drunk Monica, sort of Jarica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 23:03:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9350159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinnerofyarns/pseuds/spinnerofyarns
Summary: Jared takes care of a very very drunk Monica after a New Year's Eve party.Title from a Russian New Year's Eve movie.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! If you're reading this and/or if you've ever enjoyed anything I've written, I hope you'll consider participating in the SV fan fundraiser for CAIR and the ACLU. You can donate anytime between now and March 15, and any little bit helps! Go here for more info: https://svagainsttyranny.tumblr.com/

_Another new year, another pointless Raviga party,_ Monica thinks, her fingers in a death grip around her third – or is it fourth? – double scotch of the evening. _At least with Peter you could count on the party to be fun. Laurie’s are more like an uncomfortable family gathering. At least the alcohol’s good._ She can’t pronounce the name of the scotch in her glass – something with a “glen” and more consonants than a word has any right to have – but she loves its woody taste and the burn of it sliding down her throat. It makes her feel real in a way not much else has since Peter’s death.

“Monica?” Jared – sweet Jared, odd ever-loyal doormat Jared – is at her side. “Laurie wants everyone to come back to the living room to watch the countdown.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Monica says, then cringes as the words come out muffled and slurred as though through water. Maybe she should stop after this scotch.

Jared seems to have the same idea. “Perhaps you should take a break from drinking,” he says softly. “Have some water.”

“’m fine,” Monica says, a statement belied by her unsteady gait. She quietly thanks…whatever vaguely Catholic power is up there that Laurie made her take off her heels at the door. Otherwise she would’ve broken an ankle by now.

 _Wouldn’t that be nice though,_ she thinks, _to break something, end up in the hospital, have people worried about you? Nothing major, nothing dangerous, just enough for sympathy and concern._ She shakes her head.

Jared reaches for her elbow to lead her to the living room. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asks. Monica nods.

“Besides, I can’t start the new year off without a toast,” she says. “It’s bad luck. Or something.” She vaguely remembers someone telling her that in college, probably as a cheap ploy to get her too drunk to make rational decisions.

The worst part is, it probably worked.

Jared looks at her with a concerned look he usually saves for Richard.

“I’m _fine,_ ” Monica tells him again. “Not all of us have Richard’s…lack of an alcohol tolerance. Where is he, anyway?”

“He started throwing up, and Erlich drove him home,” Jared says. “Which…means I need to figure out how to get home myself.” He trails off, looks at the TV screen. “Oh, look, they’re down to thirty seconds,” he says just as Laurie calls for everyone to gather.

They watch the numbers tick lower, count down the last seconds of the old year, and cheer as the clock ticks over into the next day. Monica downs the rest of her scotch and crunches the ice cubes in it, a terrible nervous habit she’s never quite been able to break. One of many, if she’s being honest.

\----

“You’re too drunk to drive,” Jared says sternly. “Let me drive you to your apartment. I can’t in good conscience let you behind the wheel in this state.”

Monica nods, numb and not really paying attention, trying to figure out which of seven pairs of nearly identical black patent leather pumps is hers. Finally she sees them, the ones with the toes all scratched up from her nervous habit of scuffing them when she talks about something unpleasant.

Lately almost everything is unpleasant.

She’s not quite sure how she gets from Laurie’s house into her car, or to her apartment, or up the stairs, or to her room. She knows Jared is there, but his presence doesn’t quite register in her brain as she kicks off her shoes, pulls off her stockings and collapses on her bed.

\----

Jared turns Monica so that she is lying on her side, then picks up her shoes from the floor and places them neatly in her closet, and, not knowing what to do with her stockings, leaves them on the counter in her bathroom. He splashes some water on his face and looks at himself in the mirror, his mind racing in a pro-con analysis of going back to the hacker hostel.

 _I can’t leave her like this,_ he thinks. _What if something happens?_

_What if she wakes up, finds you still in her apartment, and freaks out?_

_It’s past 2 AM, if there are any Ubers still available they won’t want to go all the way to the other end of Palo Alto. Plus, you won’t be able to live with the guilt if something does happen to her._

Jared sighs and runs his hand through his hair. There’s nothing for it but to stay, he supposes. The couch in Monica’s living room seems a little too far away – he needs to be able to hear it if she starts gagging or choking – so he curls up on her bedroom floor instead, his jacket folded neatly under his head as a pillow. The apartment is warm enough that he doesn’t need a blanket.

 _This is nice,_ he thinks, drifting off to sleep. _Being warm is nice._

\----

Monica wakes up suddenly and with a splitting headache. When her eyes adjust to the dark she sees two aspirin tablets and a glass of water on her nightstand. The clock next to them shows that it is 4:27 AM.

Unsurprising. She’s been waking up at that time every single day for months, no matter when she goes to bed.

She downs the pills and washes them down with the water, then rolls over and almost immediately falls back asleep.

When she wakes again the sun is up and she can clearly see Jared curled up on her floor, still sound asleep.

 _He must’ve spent the night after he dropped me off,_ she thinks, and feels a small surge of happiness knowing that someone actually does care about her.

She leans over out of bed and places her hand on his arm. “Jared. Jared, wake up.” He jerks awake, blinking sleep out of his eyes.

“Monica! I’m so sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have – that is to say, I didn’t mean to impose, I was just worried and didn’t want to leave you alone in the state you were in.” He stands up quickly and picks up his jacket. “I’ll just go home now, since you’re okay. I’m so so sorry. Please just pretend this didn’t – “ He stops abruptly when Monica reaches for his hand.

“Jared,” she says, “don’t worry. It’s okay. And since you’re here now the least I can do is make you breakfast, since you spent the whole night babysitting my drunk ass.” She cringes. “Was I – did I do anything embarrassing?”

“No. Well, you got quite emotional about Peter Gregory being dead, but that’s understandable, I know he was very important to you,” Jared says, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Monica cringes. “Yeah but…ugh, god, I’m sorry you had to see that. Next time definitely cut me off after two drinks. Maybe even one, for good measure. I need to realize I’m not in college anymore.”

Jared smiles. “Trust me, compared to the last time I was really truly drunk, you were totally normal.”

“Well, you can’t just say that and leave me hanging,” Monica says. “You’ve seen my embarrassing drunk self, tell me your story.”

Jared laughs. “Maybe over breakfast.”

“Fair enough. Let me just make myself presentable and I’ll make you something.”

\----

“So…what you’re telling me is, you’re allergic to pretty much every single breakfast food,” Monica says. She stifles a giggle.

Jared nods. “I should’ve warned you. I’m sorry. We could go out somewhere – my treat…”

Monica shakes her head. “I promised you breakfast, so I’ll make you breakfast. How does a smoothie sound?” Her stomach seems to have turned against her, so perhaps a liquid breakfast would be a better decision.

“Perfect,” Jared says. “Is there anything I can help with?”

“Yeah, there’s a mango and some bananas in the fridge, can you slice them up? I think I’ve got some coconut milk in there too, hang on…yeah, here it is. And…peanut butter?”

“Sounds good,” Jared says, reaching into the fruit drawer.

\----

Monica takes a sip of her smoothie. “So, what have you got planned for today?”

“Well,” Jared says, “I was going to go back to Erlich’s and clean up a little, and then maybe do some light reading. It’s been a while since I had any time to myself. What about you?”

Monica shrugs. “Nothing in particular. I was going to ask you if you wanted to stay, actually. We could watch a movie…”

Jared nearly chokes on his smoothie in his haste to answer. “I’d love to. I can clean up tomorrow, and…it would be nice to not be alone.”

“Okay,” Monica says, smiling. “Now, you promised me an embarrassing drunk story to make me feel better about last night…”


End file.
